Jan. 27 -- It was the storm that never materialized. Two feet of snow was predicted in New York City but only 7.8 inches fell in Central Park as of Tuesday morning. Watch a time lapse of the snow falling, but not accumulating, in New York from vantage points on the Bloomberg headquarters in midtown.

A long-awaited public inquiry into the death of Alexander Litvinenko begins in London on Tuesday, nine years after the former KGB spy died after drinking tea poisoned with a rare radioactive isotope in the British capital. From his deathbed, Kremlin-critic Litvinenko, who had been granted British citizenship, accused Russian President Vladimir Putin of ordering his murder, and British authorities say there is evidence to charge two ex-KGB agents with murder.

Russia has always denied any involvement in his death, although Robert Owen, the judge who will act as the inquiry chairman, has said there was "prima facie" evidence of Russian culpability.

Owen has also said the 2006 death had been described as "a miniature nuclear attack on the streets of London" and "state-sponsored assassination by radioactive poisoning." The controversy generated by the killing chilled Anglo-Russian relations to a post-Cold War low.

As ties improved, Britain rejected holding an inquiry in 2013, admitting the relationship with Russia was a factor although not a decisive one. However, with relations subsequently soured by the Ukraine crisis, the British government changed its mind and gave the go-ahead for the inquiry last July.

Litvinenko's wife Marina said she believed the official inquisition would finally shed light on how her husband died, as well as on his work for the British foreign spy agency MI6.

In March 1944, when the first Soviet liberator set foot on the grounds of Pechora — a Nazi death camp in Ukraine known commonly as the “dead loop” — 6-year-old survivor Aron Zusman locked eyes with the newcomer’s German shepherd. Zusman was sent to the camp at the age of four. Over the course of more than two years, Nazi guards had made a habit of sicking their own fearsome German shepherds on the young Jewish boy.

“One time, one of the Germans’ dogs locked her jaw around my neck. I was looking up at her, fearing that my mother’s heart would break,” Zusman told The Moscow Times in a phone interview on Monday. “Inexplicably, the dog then opened her jaws wide, letting me go. The Germans beat her horribly after that.” After all that he had been through, the sight of another German shepherd should have filled little Zusman with horror. It didn’t.

He looked up at the approaching Soviet soldier, and back down at the dog. He knew there was something different about this one. Zusman ran to the canine’s side, showering him with kisses and affection.

On Tuesday the international community honors International Holocaust Day. The holiday was established by the United Nations ten years ago, on the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, the Nazi’s biggest death camp. This year’s commemoration of the 70th anniversary of the liberation has so far been mired in political controversy, owing largely to diplomatic tension that appears to have inspired President Vladimir Putin to sit out this year’s memorial at the site of Auschwitz in Poland.

But Zusman’s story is a testament to the fact that personal conviction and courage in the face of insurmountable odds shine brighter than political tedium.